Crossroads
by jrogers
Summary: This is a tag to the end of episode 8-Baptiste


Crossroads

Tag to episode 8-Baptiste

This starts on the rooftop after Winston's exchange on the phone with Guerrero.

As he headed down from the roof of the building, Chance realized he had an issue. He was in no condition to move quickly but he was stuck in a part of town that cab service would be scarce in tonight because of the gas leak. He kept a quick pace for a couple of blocks until he came into a more populated area where he could grab a cab. The dark thankfully hid his somewhat questionable appearance and he slid into the first one to stop. Once he was on his way he began contemplating a plan but his head was hurting and figuring Baptiste's moves was like trying to second guess himself, which he was not all that comfortable with anyway. Then his mind drifted back to Emma and her loss and that mixed with thoughts of Katherine and he felt himself totally losing control. As the cab rocked to a stop and brought him out of his thoughts he paid the cabbie and stood in front of the entrance, hand resting on the gun in his pocket. He realized why he had no plan because he didn't feel like he wanted a future. He had mentioned karma earlier and now he felt like he was facing his destiny, to stop Baptiste, avenge Katherine and now Emma even if it cost his life or his sanity. He looked down the corridor and saw his target, moving slowly he headed toward destiny.

------------

The cold air whipped around him on the rooftop. After hanging up with Guerrero Winston headed down to the suv and started east to the Foggy Bottom station in hopes of encountering Baptiste. Mixed emotions went through him, he wanted to be the one to find him and spare Chance the encounter. Despite what he said earlier in the day, he didn't want to see Chance do something he might regret later. On the other hand if he was truthful with himself, Baptiste scared the crap out of him. He knew he never wanted to go up against Chance in any kind of fight, despite his physical advantage and Baptiste with his ruthless edge was not something he wanted to test either. Winston drove as fast as he dared, trying to keep his eyes open for any signs along the way.

-------------

Activity picked up as the explosion died down and Barnes borrowed a cell phone to call her apartment, hoping to catch someone from the group there to get an update on Baptiste. She was sore but feeling on a roll, despite her brush with death. Once she found she was alive and functioning she was feeling invincible. Maybe she had a little insight into what Christopher Chance felt during these adventures of his.

"Pick up- pick up" she stamped her foot until finally Guerrero answered.

"Where's Baptiste" she cut straight to the matter but silence greeted her for a few seconds before he said "I guess your reported demise was premature."

"Yes" she said impatiently, "now where…"

Guerrero interrupted "we traced some calls and think he is at a subway station, Chance and Winston are checking out the closest ones."

"Which one did Chance go to?" her mind raced.

"Rosslyn"

She cut the connection and headed out. There was an FBI car parked around the corner and she grabbed it, taking off toward the station Chance chose. After the events of the last few hours she knew he had the instincts to zone in on Baptiste and she would have bet her career (oh wait she had already done that tonight) on his insight.

Barnes arrived at the station; thankfully it appeared deserted as it did tend to clear out at this time of night. She entered cautiously from the rear entrance and quietly made her way down the wide passageway. Voices began to drift her way and she recognized them. She stopped and turned back, pulling out the cell phone she had borrowed and called in back up to meet her there. Once that was covered, she cautiously continued on her way. Knowing that Guerrero thought she had perished in the bomb blast left her worried if Chance believed that also. She didn't know what lengths he would go to trying to find his justice. She could see the grief in his eyes when he tried to covey what little information he had not wanted to share about Katherine, and after the conversation where Baptiste pried to find out if she and Chance had a relationship she knew even though they didn't her perceived death could push him to do something regrettable.

------------

As they sat and talked Chance wavered in what he wanted to do. Just seeing Baptiste again today pulled his feelings back to his old ways of thinking. No regrets - do what you want and he wanted to kill. Sometimes Chance thought Winston tried to use reverse psychology on him, and the comments early in the day might fall into that category. When Winston said "no buts, whatever you want", something that should have set him free to do what he wanted caused him now to questions what he really wanted. Then throw into this whole mess the fresh pain he was feeling over Emma and he wished there was a third option. Baptiste started in with his chatter again, trying to twist Chance's thoughts with his laments over the events when he left the fold, mocking his change of heart and twisting the knife as his version painted himself as a victim. Chance again checked the time on the station monitor till the next train came in

------------

Guerrero's head popped up as something caught his attention on the emergency channels; he heard a call go out for backup to the Rosslyn station. He grabbed his phone, speed dialing Winston.

Winston arrived at the Foggy Bottom station, taking one last look around as he prepared to get out and circle the station. His phone buzzed and he stopped and checked caller id, Guerrero. "Yeah," he barked.

"Hey it just came across the radio; FBI backup is heading to the Rosslyn station."

"Gotcha,"

"Wait, wait," came a fading voice as Winston started to throw the phone down with a finger poised to end the call. He pulled the phone back between his shoulder and ear, "What," he answered as he was started the vehicle back up and made a bumpy u turn.

"Barnes called; she's still among the living." Winston swerved at the news which caused him to lose the phone. He heard it disconnect as it bounced across the floorboard and his mind switched back to Chance, why did he always feel like he was a day late and a dollar short when he was in the field. Although he understood what Chance might do to Baptiste and why, he did not want to see him get reckless because of bad information. The suv was getting a work out tonight.

------------

As the patrons boarded the train Chance felt at peace with his decision. Talking with Baptiste made him remember that he was looking at his past self. That it took outside people to turn him around and he realized Baptiste missed that influence. He had an inkling now that Baptiste's obsession with watches was part of trying to live normally. He had no real human relationships, no simple pleasure in his life. The watches were like a kid in him, finding delight and pleasure in something he enjoyed and admired. But he was warped in how he acquired them and Chance knew after tonight's conversation he wanted no redemption for himself in the end. As the subway pulled out he and Baptiste slowly raised up to face each other, Chance pulling out the gun he had clasped through the whole conversation, letting it hang at his side. As Baptiste continued to talk, Chance realized he was being egged on, and he saw right then the dare at death in Baptiste's eyes that he himself took on cases that drove Winston over the edge. And he saw Baptiste flash him a look that said he felt he was in the win-win situation. If Chance shot him then Baptiste might die but he would see Chance have to face that in the end he had never really changed and was wrong in leaving the fold. Chance knew Baptiste might be alive on the outside but inside he was dead already and having Chance end it probably didn't seem like that bad of a choice. If Chance let him go then Baptiste would continue to wreck havoc on lives at another time and another place until someone did stop him permanently.

So intent were they on each other, neither picked up any signs that someone was approaching from a side corridor. Barnes voice rang out, authority there with just an edge of uncertainty. Baptiste actually lost his cool for a moment; his mentor's new group was definitely causing his usual flawless style to falter on this assignment. Baptiste wished for a gun, he would whirl and take her out right now permanently regardless of the cost. It was as if he and Chance had been standing on a perfectly balanced scale, each waiting for the other to tip the scales. But her voice did the tipping and he felt the air change instantly around Chance. He wondered if Chance even realized he spoke out loud when he voiced his astonished wonder that she had made it out. Barnes continued talking fast, she seemed to sense also that there was a lot swinging in the balance here and she might be the weight that pulled it her way, justice's way.

Chance heard her continue to talk, telling the rest of the story like she already knew the ending, like she was the in control of the situation and it was over. Chance switched his eyes from her naive face to Baptiste intense look. Their eyes met and he could read Baptiste mind. His thoughts mirrored his own that they knew this was not going to end simply with a trial and jail time. Baptiste's face showed his arrogance in his belief that her appearance was his ticket to freedom. Chance would not shoot him now and escape from the FBI would be child's play for him. The FBI was a force to be reckoned with, but both knew the old man pulled strings everywhere and the FBI would loose control over Baptiste in the end.

Anger that Baptiste was right surged through him as he brought the gun up to bear on his target. He heard himself say, "Not for me it isn't"

The only way he would not be free to wreck his havoc again was indeed when he was dead. Barnes continued to talk, part of it he heard, some blurred with memories of Katherine in the past, his heart raced and for one of the few times in his life he doubted his course of action. He, a man that made split second decisions with lives in the balance all the time, couldn't even put a coherent thought together. Baptiste with his win/win smirk burned him with its intensity.

He heard nothing as time ticked for eternity. Finally he made his decision, for Katherine, for those he had let himself become attached to in the present and he lowered his gun.

Baptiste covered his relief at which win situation he was handed by chattering even more, smiling and throwing a few last verbal jabs at Chance. Both knew this hadn't ended, it was just postponed. And although Chance passed on the choice of cold blooded killing, he knew they would meet again and they would get their opportunity to finish it, he just hoped the cost wasn't too high before then.

He tried to calm down, catch his breath as activity started up around him. He tuned back in to those around him as a now handcuffed Baptiste disappeared from his site, just now catching glimpses of dozens of people that seemed to have appeared instantaneously. He looked back up and as the painful memories of losing Katherine faded from his mind and his body began to settle back down, it was countered with the almost painful rush of seeing Emma alive.

"Glad to see your okay" he managed quietly. She was positively beaming, something he didn't think he had seen in her during any of the time they had spent together. As she rattled on about work and the arrest of a lifetime, he drank in his last look of her. He pushed his armor, as Guerrero called it, up to bury his feelings for her. This was just another painful reminder as to why he had those barriers, one day he would learn the lesson for good, without putting himself through these reminders. Her gentle thank you was making his barriers harder to maintain and he couldn't even speak, not even a nod in return. Turning on his heel he headed out, walking fast, faster than he thought he was physically capable of at the moment because he needed to be out of here and right now. Sliding the gun back into his pocket to avoid any more police detention he made straight for the door.

He made it and with a lunge he pushed out into the cold shocking air, grabbing the side of the building, he promptly threw up in the bushes. It was all too much, the physical issues, the mental and emotional turmoil, but as he rose up his head pounding he realized what was really going on.

Winston pulled up in record time at the Rosslyn station, taking note of all the police activity. He thought he had caught a glimpse of Baptiste being loaded into an unmarked car as he rounded the corner. He also noted the lack of ambulances and felt himself let out a sigh as this should be a good sign. Maybe this mop up wouldn't be too bad. He swung back around to the other entrance and as he got out, he saw a figure leaning against the building looking a lot like the man he was looking for. He appeared to be using the building for support. As he approached the figured straightened up quickly and Winston got a better look at him, and he knew this mop up was going to be messy.

"The car's over here," Chance took a deep breath and started that way, Winston let him take the lead following behind closely if needed. In the passing light he started to take stock of Chance, a bloody rip on his sleeve, a limp in his right leg. Chance's pace slowed almost as if he was running out of steam as he slid into the passenger seat. Winston climbed in and both sat in silence for awhile, then he started up the vehicle and pulled out.

"Home?"

"How about we celebrate," Chance replied, "I could use some stitches, we could spring for some local this time and some antibiotics from a professional." Winston almost lost control of the vehicle as he did a double take, Chance wanted to go to the hospital, now he was sure he was in another universe.

"A hospital?" He tried to keep the shock out of his voice.

"Sure why not, no gun shot wounds to explain, the police aren't looking for me, I have an established cover to explain what does need to be treated and no offense but getting sewn up by a professional once in awhile sometimes seems like a luxury."

"No offense taken. Ok, we can make that the next stop then."

"What about Guerrero and that new girl, don't we need to pick up them?"

"Well yes but you said….,"

"No" he cut in "we can do that first."

"Well okay if you're sure." Chance fell silent and leaned into the door as they moved through the city.

With periodic side glances at his passenger, Winston steered through the streets back to Barnes' apartment. As he pulled up he saw Leila standing by some cases on the sidewalk. He pulled up next to the curb and jumped out, heading around back to begin loading the equipment. She started handing it over to him, piece by piece. Guerrero spooked around from behind him with the last case. As he handed it over Winston quietly turned and spoke, "just a little change of plans. I have some tickets waiting at the airport; if you and Leila are ready to head back tonight I can drop you off at the airport." In an even lower voice "I think we are going to stay the night here," he glanced in the front of the vehicle. "I think he really needs some rest, he suggested going to the hospital, which is strange enough but I thought I saw him getting sick when I picked him up from the station."

"Hospital, why does he need to go to the hospital?" Guerrero's eyes narrowed at Winston, like it was Winston's fault somehow.

"I think he caught some knife wounds when he ran into Baptiste up on the roof at Georgetown. They don't seem to be bleeding too badly."

Guerrero put his arm on Winston's and pulled him around to look him straight in the eye. "Dude, you don't understand, Baptiste has some strange habits and one of them used to be with his knives, he kept his knives coated in something nasty."

Now Guerrero glanced toward the front passenger seat, "that way if someone got away from him but he wounded them his nasty surprise would begin slowing them down giving him the advantage to track them down."

"What are you talking about, poison?

"No, not exactly, more like his own variety of infection, he is one twisted dude. Listen, skip the airport, let's get to the hospital now, if Leila wants to go I can drop…" She had been listening quietly in the background, "No, no I am okay, let's go if he needs help…"

After one last glance at each other, Winston slammed the back shut and everyone found a seat. Chance was seated in the passenger seat with his door open, looking a little green. "Ready?" Winston asked.

"Sure," Chance slowly pulled himself in and pulled the door shut.

As Winston started up and headed out on the quickest route to the hospital he glanced again over a Chance, "Why didn't you tell me,"

"What?" Chance said and Guerrero cleared his throat.

"Oh, that, well I am not sure he even still does that stuff."

"Were you losing your lunch at the station?"

"Well, maybe, but it has been a stressful night."

Winston just shook his head and increased his speed, this lecture could wait for later.

"So is there any other pertinent information I need to pass along at the hospital about this possible 'stuff'?"

"Not really, usually a strong antibiotic will counter whatever he has cooked up."

Winston noticed he was sweating but had his arms wrapped around his midsection in a hug to stay warm. He increased the heater along with his speed.

Once they got to the emergency room, Guerrero and Leila helped Chance in and found a wheelchair as Winston made his way to the emergency room window to get things in motion. Once he had the paperwork started with Chance's cover name as an SFPD detective that had been in a scuffle and agreed to pay in cash, Chance was wheeled in to a curtained area. Leila found a seat in the waiting area and found that Guerrero was right, her high from earlier was wearing off.

Winston joined Guererro in the curtained room as the nurse was fitting Chance with a gown, wanting to make sure that neither of them left out any information regarding his needed treatment. As his wounds became exposed, and the nurse laid him out on the gurney, Chance's teeth started chattering. She stuck a thermometer on his head and widened her eyes at the reading. "Mr. Siever you appear to have more symptoms than just these wounds." She found a blanket and covered him up, draping it to allow access to his arm and leg. She glanced at the other two and Winston began in on his prepared story, about how he had been knifed hours ago and had been in a filthy area when it happened, suggesting some very strong antibiotics were in order. She jotted it all down, and began laying out the necessary instruments for sewing up his wounds. As she left she gave her standard line "the doctor will be with you shortly."

Winston settled back against the counter, still eyeing Chance and the nasty looking wounds, noticing that he was starting to doze off. Guerrero was wondering around the room, pocketing a few things he seemed to find interesting. Winston gave him a scowl but he just grinned and kept scavenging.

The doctor and nurse arrived shortly, causing Guerrero to spin quickly in none too innocent a pose. With a suspicious look the doctor read over the notes and seemed to nod his head in agreement as he looked at Chance and his wounds and symptoms.

"Mr. Siever," he began then droned on about the treatment and what was going to happen, but Chance after a quick eye glance at the doctor was now actually snoring lightly. When his intended audience did not pay attention, he turned his speech to Winston, as he seemed to be the most responsible looking one of the group. "This seems to be pretty straight forward, we will clean and stitch him up, I will have the nurse bring a strong prescription for his infection, it appears he must have been in some nasty stuff to be this affected so quickly. I see you are out of town, if you stay here then he needs to come back in a couple of days for follow up, if not make sure he sees his local doctor when he gets back home." Winston nodded and had to make a lunge to grab the bottle of pills from the nurse as she came in before Guerrero intercepted it. With a glare at Guerrero Winston thanked the doctor.

"If you gentlemen will wait in the waiting room I will let you know when we are done and he is ready to go."

"Sure doc" and he grabbed Guerrero's arm and pulled him along. As they gathered around a snoozing Leila in the waiting room Winston looked at Guerrero and asked again.

"You are welcome to stay here and leave in the morning or head out tonight, ticket vouchers are waiting at the airport."

Guerrero glanced around and at the sleeping Leila, "No dude I think we are all sacked. What, you think about an hour before he is ready?" as he nodded his head back toward the curtained room.

"Probably, what are you thinking?"

"The new girl and I will go find us a room and I can leave her there then I will be back for you. When he is ready we can just take him straight in."

Winston nodded as he handed over the keys. "Sounds good."

He turned to put in his time in the waiting room, using it to make some calls and send some emails to start putting this case to bed. Since they weren't getting paid either he let his mind wonder over what might need to be liquidated when they returned home to pay some bills.

When he heard an approach he looked up to see the doctor who attended Chance headed his way. Standing up at the approach the doctor nodded and handed him some paperwork.

"He is getting ready now, we gave him a shot of antibiotics so if you do not see improvement by tomorrow definitely get him back to a doctor, otherwise, he is ready to go. Of course he will be sore for awhile, looks like he took a few hits along with his wounds, and the infection and stitches all require some rest."

Winston nodded and they shook hands, "Thank you" and he headed behind the curtain. Chance was making an attempt to get his shirt on, his pants he seemed to have managed. Seeing his current struggle Winston was curious what the pants procedure had looked like.

"Hey want some help?" he asked, "No, I can get it", Winston just shook his head at his stubbornness and waited.

"Well then, now that we are done celebrating, lets head to get some rest and we can catch a plane home tomorrow"

"You know this will never be over until Baptiste is dead?" Chance stopped and looked up with turmoil in his eyes and voice.

"I know, and I know next time we meet him it might make this look like a cake walk but I don't regret the decision you made tonight"

"What decision?" Chance asked as he shifted his concentration back to his shirt, avoiding eye contact.

"I know you had a chance, probably more than one, to take Baptiste out of the picture, but you chose not to when given the opportunity. I know you struggle with your past and your current path but every time you make a decision like that, one that upholds what we believe, not what is necessarily easy or most efficient, you just reinforce that it was worth all the struggles to have you as a friend and partner today." He paused a moment then continued " It's not about proving that we made the right decision when we started this and you changed sides, it's about you coming to a place where you can forgive and live with yourself. You are right we will see Baptiste again, and you may even find yourself regretting then that you let him walk away today, but I am proud of you everyday you find the strength to confront your past and go on."

Chance just looked up as he finished getting dressed and gave Winston a soul searching stare, then with grateful affirmation in his eyes he slowly started toward the waiting room. Winston made a stop at the window and settled up their account as Chance found a chair and waited.

As Winston turned he saw the rented suv pull up in the emergency overhang and he turned to help Chance up and out. As they walked toward the door Chance stopped his forward motion for a second and pulled Winston around to look at him. "Thanks" he said "for everything."

Winston let his face split into a genuine smile as he replied "Hey that's what partners are for"


End file.
